


To Build a Tent

by RunWithWolves



Series: 30 Days of Cupcake [11]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Camping AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 12:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8144525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: Despite it being her first time camping, Laura is bound and determined to build her tent all on her own. Fueling her determination is the snickers of one Carmilla Karnstein who apparently finds Laura's tent-making skills and marshmallow-cooking failures amusing. There's no way that Laura is going to cave to her flirty co-counselor's charms. She's got this completely under control.





	

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say about my camping trip... it was... um... cold. It was cold. Really really cold.

Laura had no idea why anyone would subject themselves to this horror; she stared down at the mess of canvas and poles at her feet, trying to will them into forming a tent on their own. In theory helping a bunch of underprivileged kids try new experiences had been a great idea. She just hadn’t realized that it would involve camping.

Her dad never let her go camping. 

Too many bears. 

Now she was stuck trying to look like she knew what she doing in front of a group of kids and a handful of other counselors. 

Taking a deep breath, Laura nodded and grabbed at the tent poles. Easy enough. She quickly snapped all of the segments into place, creating long poles where once had been tiny piles of plastic. Trying to hold all of the poles at once, she looked back down at the flat piece of canvas for any indication as to where they might go. Nothing looked promising. 

Maybe if she saw what she was supposed to do it would help.

Looking to her left, Laura let her gaze land on one of her co-counselors and new neighbour. Carmilla Karnstein. All leather pants and dark hair and bone structure that gave Laura a bad case of the gay. She let her eyes linger for just a moment and then they moved to the tent. 

Her jaw dropped. 

Carmilla was nearly done. She’s arrived the same time as Laura, swaggering out of her car with the tent slung over her shoulder and aviators hiding her eyes. Now all Laura had were some poles and Carmilla nearly had a complete tent. As she watched, Carmilla grabbed one one of her tent poles that was already somehow attached to the tent, leaned on it and boom, it somehow snapped into place. Carmilla completed the action three more times with three different poles and suddenly a complete tent stood before her. 

Carmilla wiped her hands, leather pants still immaculate.

Laura could feel dirt from the poles crusting on her arms. 

Then Carmilla turned and caught her staring. “Problem, cupcake?” Carmilla called.

Her voice was all kinds of sexy and Laura spun around, blush on her cheeks, “What? Nope. No problem here. Just building my tent. For you know, camping. Because who wants to sleep on the grass right? Got to have a tent. Which is why I’m building one.”

“Alright cutie,” Carmilla’s voice was closer than she expected, “I didn’t mean to get in the way of your tent-making. Just, I always have a policy of checking in on pretty girls who stare at me. ”

Laura looked over her shoulder and Carmilla had moved her aviators to the top of her head, giving Laura a wink.

Laura whipped back around, “I wasn’t staring.”

“Sure.” Carmilla said. 

Ignoring her, Laura frowned at the tent and grabbed the fabric. She started slipping one of the poles into a slit in the fabric that looked like it might be right. 

“That’s not right.”

Laura ignored her and kept shoving it in.

“That’s not right.” Carmilla repeated. 

Laura didn’t turn around, “Self righteous smug commentators can keep their opinions to themselves.”

“It’s hardly an opinion when I’m correct,” Carmilla said, “That’s the wrong spot. You put it together like that and the whole thing is going to collapse.”

“Maybe you just don’t understand my advanced tent making skills,” Laura said. She grabbed a second pole, squinted at it, and shoved it in another slit. 

“Oh,” Carmilla’s voice somehow took on even sexier rumble, “I understand all kinds of things, cupcake. All the right buttons to push and where to insert things with a certain degree of finesse. I would be so unfortunate for everything to come tumbling down in the middle due to trying to force it.”

Laura’s cheeks warmed and she just grabbed another pole as she squeaked out, “I know how to build a tent.”

“I’m sure,” Carmilla said, “But it never hurts to take a few more lessons.”

If a smirk could be a voice, it was Carmilla’s. 

Laura whirled around and pointed a pole right at Carmilla’s smug little gorgeous mouth, “Look. We’re both counselors and we have to be civil. There are children here and I don’t appreciate anything that you’re implying.”

Carmilla batted her eyelashes, “Why cupcake, whatever do you mean? Me? Implying thing? I didn’t mean anything, could you please explain. What did I imply? I’d hate to say something scandalous.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Laura snapped, “And my name is Laura. Not cupcake. Laura.”

Carmilla’s eyes darkened, “Oh. I know. As if anyone could forget you.” She took a step closer, “All tightly wound button-ups taking notes at a casual counselor meeting and acting as though there isn’t something magnetic about you under that nerdy backpack.”

“Um. Maybe it’s my keen fashion sense?” Laura tried to make sense of anything with Carmilla in her space. The other girl had her hand wrapped around the tent pole, fingers tantalizingly close. 

“It’s definitely not that,” Carmilla said. Her hand slid down and her thumb briefly caressed Laura’s thumb before vanishing. “How about I help you finish setting up this tent and then we can take it for a spin?”

For a moment, Laura entertained the idea. Carmilla’s breath would ghost across her lips as she moved in closer, the anticipation building. Then, she’d move down and they’d be kissing. Carmilla would push into her with her hands fisting in Laura’s hair. 

Then she shook her head and took a step back, using her sudden arousal to fuel her anger. “Thats! We can’t! Why would,” she started, “There are children here.” She hissed as her anger grew. Whether at herself or Carmilla, she wasn’t sure. “Why would you even suggest that? I don’t even know you. Seriously. That’s just. I don’t. No. Just no. And please don’t mention it again.”

Carmilla shrugged and retreated. She put her hands in her pockets and winked at Laura, “I didn’t want to leave you with just implications. I prefer to be a little clearer. Good luck with your tent” Then she turned away, “Although it might be hard to do with tent pegs, cupcake.”

She strode away. Leather pants doing nothing to help Laura keep her glare pointed firmly at the back of Carmilla’s head. Then Carmilla’s last words clicked. She looked at the ground, panicked. No tent pegs anywhere. 

She paused for a moment, considering the half-formed misshapen tent in front of her. Then she looked over at Carmilla’s tent. Gritting her teeth, Laura grabbed another tent pole. She could do this. She could totally do this.

#

Forty five minutes later she dropped into an empty lawn chair around the campfire, coincidentally the one next to Carmilla. The fire crackled loudly as the sun started to disappear, illuminating the faces of the exciting kids talking to each other around it. A few greeted her before turning back to their conversations. 

“She lives,” Carmilla said without looking away from the fire. 

“Got the tent up and everything,” Laura said, “And you said that I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have to switch any of the poles that you said were wrong and I found these sticks in the woods to use for tent pegs. So hah!” She waved her arms, “Hollis for the win.”

“You can build a tent,” Carmilla agreed and Laura had to fight her impulse to do a victory dance. It died quickly, “Let’s see if it stays up though. It’s getting cold tonight, cupcake.”

“I know that. It’s why I’m wearing a sweater.” Laura said. She held out her arms. The Doctor Who sweater was her warmest one, a large TARDIS flying across the front. 

The corner of Carmilla’s mouth twitched, “I take it back. Your allure is definitely your fashion sense.”

“This is my favourite sweater!” Laura objected.

“Of course it is,” Carmilla said. 

“Doctor Who is awesome,” Laura said, “All those adventures and stories! It’s amazing. He can go anywhere in the whole galaxy and yet the Doctor chooses to spend his time helping people. Plus it’s funny and sometimes scary and it’s got the deepest mythology ever!”

“He’s a man with a hero complex,” Carmilla scoffed.

Laura could stop her face from scrunching. How dare anyone insult the Doctor.

“That bunched up face you make is adorable buttercup,” Carmilla said, “But don’t think it’s going to convince me that the Doctor is anything but a charlatan. The world wasn’t made for men who think they can fix it. The sooner you get over that little fantasy, the better.”

That got the words to come out. “He’s not just a man with a hero complex.” Laura objected, “The Doctor helps people yes and he might be a hero is you look at face value. But he doesn’t think he’s a hero. I mean, look at the Day of the Doctor. He spends so many seasons torturing himself for destroying Gallifrey and everyone just to end the war. He practically hates himself. He thinks that he’s the opposite of a hero but he keeps going anyway. Just keeps going. Because he believes that everyone deserves help if they need it. Rose and Amy and River and human and me. Even you.” Laura added, “the Doctor believes in everyone.”

Carmilla said nothing. She just blinked owlishly at Laura in the firelight. 

Nodding that she’d made her point, Laura turned to the boy beside her and started asking about the marshmallow he was roasting. Ten minutes later, Laura had her own stick and the boy was trying to talk her through how to make it. 

They had one goal: smores.

The marshamallow dropped into the fire and he started giggling. A couple of other kids ran to get her another as they bit into their own smores, creations perfectly toasted. The next Laura accidentally whacked against a log. The third hit the ashes. 

The fourth caught on fire. 

Laura’s eyes went huge, her eyes on the flaming torch at the end of her stick. The kids were shrieking with laughter, telling her to blow it out. She wasn’t even sure how she was supposed to do that. 

Something moved beside her and, the next thing she knew, Carmilla had leaned forward and blown the fire out for her. Saying nothing as she returned to her seat, Carmilla just focused on her own marshmallow. Perfectly golden as she slowly rotated it over the fire. 

All Laura was left with was a pitch black marshmallow. She laughed with the kids and handed over the roasting stick, saying that someone else had better handle it before she burned the whole place down. She tried to hide her disappointment at the lack of smore by smiling and offering to walk two little girls over to the bathroom. They took her hands and giggled the whole way there. When they got back to the campsite, the girls ran off to their friends. 

Laura almost sat back in her chair but stopped at the last second. Sitting on her chair was a perfectly made smore. Laura took a bite and almost moaned from happiness. 

Carmilla was nowhere to be found but when Laura looked across the fire, she found Carmilla’s eyes on her. They darted away, returning to the kids at her feet as Carmilla returned to telling what sounded like a story far too scary for kids. 

Laura just took another bite of her smore.

#

The fire was out, the kids were in their tents, and Laura was absolutely freezing but refused to admit it. She snuggled deeper into her sleeping bag, trying to find any kind of warmth as the 2am temperature digged to what had to be zero degrees. Eyeing the drooping canvas that made her ceiling, she shivered as another gust of wind hit the tent and sent cold air spiraling into her little fortress of solitude.

She’d made the mistake of giggling at the pompom adorned toque on Carmilla’s head when the two went to bed.

Carmilla had just looked at her and said, “When you get too cold in that thin sweater, cupcake. Feel free to crawl in with me.”

“I’m going to be plenty warm,” Laura had said, unzipping her tent and trying to pretend its wobbling didn’t bother her.

Carmilla had just smiled, “Not at 2am. Either you’ve got a hotter body than even I imagined for you’re not wearing near enough layers.”

Then she’d disappeared with a “you know where to find me.” She hadn’t even given Laura time to think up a good comeback which was just rude. 

Which left Laura shivering at 2am, refusing to admit that Carmilla was right. She rubbed her own arms through the sweater, trying to remember if the sleeping bag was thermal or not. At this point, she was guessing not. Even with all of her socks on, her feet were still really cold. 

The wind hit again.

The poles creaked.

The tent collapsed.

Laura’s shout was immediately muffled as the roof landed on top of her, poles and all. The canvas, wet with dew, stuck itself to her face. Cold and wet and constricting. Laura flailed at the fabric, trying to get her arms out of the sleeping bag to move the remains of the tent. Pushing and wiggling, Laura managed to get into a sitting position. She barely managed to keep control of her breathing as she tried to remember which direction the zipper to the door was. 

Then there was a loud zip noise and she could suddenly see an exit. Laura threw herself towards the hole, leaving her sleeping bag behind as she fell out of the door and tripped on all the extra fabric.

She landed in two blessedly warm arms. 

It wasn’t even a surprise when she looked up and saw Carmilla staring down at her. The stars blinking in the near blackness beyond them.

“Tent maker extraordinaire, eh?” Carmilla said, smirking even as she didn’t let go of Laura.

Laura winced, “I may have slightly miscalculated.”

“Really?” Carmilla drawled, “I hadn’t noticed. I just figured that trapping yourself in a collapsed tent was some strategy that I hadn’t heard of.”

Laura sighed and bit her tongue. She told herself that she didn’t move away from Carmilla because the other girl was warm. Carmilla still wearing the toque and seemed to have two sweaters on. Laura gave in, “Fine. I’ve never been camping before. You were right and I’m freezing. Now would you please help me set up this tent, properly, or would you like more begging?”

“While I’m always down for a little more begging,” Carmilla said, body still pressed against Laura’s, “there’s no way we’re setting this up in the pitch black. You’re sleeping with me, cupcake.”

Laura pushed her away, “What? No. Carmilla. If you think that I”m going to-”

“Laura.” 

The way Carmilla said her name made her stop. It sounded tired and a little sad.

“I really just meant actually sleep. You’re cold to the touch and I could hear your teeth chattering all night. My tent is warm, my sleeping bag is meant for this weather, and I promise that I won’d do anything you’re not comfortable with.” 

Laura stared at her. Carmilla shrugged, clearly uncomfortable and added, “The kids like you or whatever. Can’t have you turning into a popsicle. They might send one of those replacement counselors. Trust me. No-one wants that. The last guy tried to sneak a keg onto the campsite.”

Taking a step forward, Laura said, “No funny business?”

“I promise.” Carmilla said. With her eyes adjusting to the darkness, Laura could see the sincerity in them. Then it blinked out when Carmilla added, “Not unless you want me to.”

Laura groaned but still managed to catch the edge of Carmilla’s quick smile.

“Fine.” Laura said, “but only because I’m freezing.”

Carmilla held back the flap to her own tent, “After you.”

Barrelling through the door, Laura practically leapt into Carmilla’s sleeping bag and cocooned herself in the fluffiness. 

“Maybe leave a little room for the rest of us, cupcake?”

With a deep breath, Laura slid backwards and left a small hole. Carmilla slid into it until she was nose to nose with Laura. The small size of the bag mean that their legs were immediately entangled and their stomachs pressed together. 

Laura couldn’t even bring herself to care. Carmilla was so warm. Nothing else mattered.

“Jeez,” Carmilla grumbled, “it’s like sleeping with an ice cube.”

“Sorry.” Laura muttered. Her eyes already closing. 

It was just so warm.

Maybe she’d see about ‘accidentally’ breaking one of the tent poles tomorrow, then even Carmilla wouldn’t be able to get the tent up. After all, if she was asleep then how bad could Carmilla really be? She was nothing but a heat source.

She was almost asleep when she felt Carmilla reach out and slip her torque over the top of Laura’s head.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't even begin to describe to you the importance of my toque while camping in the fall. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for your kudos and comments and [tumblr stop-ins](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/). They never fail to make smile. 
> 
> This is the eleventh story of '30 Days of Cupcake' where I'll be posting a unique Carmilla fanfic every weekday for 30 days. Stay stupendous. Aria.


End file.
